


Seals for Sale

by Miratete



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Auction, Bachelor Auction, Loss of Virginity, Megatron Gets the Better of Ultra Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miratete/pseuds/Miratete
Summary: -o-o-o-o-o-o-Brainstorm came close and crouched before Tailgate.  “Look, you do know what's going to happen, right?  You really do know how you lose your seals, right?”Tailgate nodded happily.  “I'm up to it.”Riptide, sitting silently with his mouth hanging open until now, suddenly grabbed Whirl firmly at the shoulder from behind.  “I consider Tailgate a friend, so if you so much as scratch his paint...” he threatened.“Oh I won't be scratching his paint.”  Whirl waved a claw dismissively.  “Anything but.  Just you wait and see...” laughed the rotary ominously.-o-o-o-o-o-
Relationships: Tailgate/???
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

-o-o-o-o-o-

Life as everyone knew it, at least as they knew it at Swerve's, suddenly came to a screeching halt.

“You sold him what?!” Brainstorm choked.

“He did!?” Swerve joined in.

“I'm not hearing this... I'm not hearing this!” Skids coughed, putting his hands over his audials.

Tailgate just sat there looking a bit excited, but also a bit confused by the reaction of his fellow crewmembers as well.

Whirl was waving the contract around smugly. “He sold me his seals,” he cackled. “Got myself a sweet little piece of minibot.”

“Tailgate!?” Trailcutter gasped. “You sold... that?”

“Why not? I needed the money, and well, I'm going to lose them sometime, right? Might as well get it over with and make some money off of it as I do.” His tone of voice made it sound like he'd just sold a piece of furniture.

Skids slapped a hand to his face. “You're joking. This is some sort of joke. Tell me that Whirl's just teasing us,” he laughed awkwardly.

“Not a joke,” said Whirl, popping the contract down in front of Skids. “Read for yourself. Tailgate's seals are mine to take or do whatever I please with.”

“Tailgate, you do understand what this is, right? You know what seals he's referring to and what's... ugh... well, how...” The ever brilliant Brainstorm was fumbling for words. Tailgate had come a long way, but sometimes the minibot's inexperience and gullibility still got him into trouble.

“I know. I'm just surprised I didn't sell them earlier if I'd known somebody would actually want them.”

“I just can't believe you're still sealed.” Skids groaned. He looked at Whirl, squinting one optic. “This has to be a joke.”

“But you sold them to Whirl? Whirl?” Trailcutter asked, shaking Tailgate's shoulder.

Tailgate shrugged. “So?”

“How can you be that naive, or... or that gullible?” Brainstorm sputtered.

“They're mine to do with as I want, well, they were. They belong to Whirl now.”

Whirl put a spindly arm around the blue and white minibot. “Yep. Little guy's right.”

Swerve tried to keep down his panic. If this was what Tailgate wanted, well... so be it.

“I'm not even going to ask how much you paid him,” Skids snarled at Whirl, turning back to his drink. “No, wait. I do want to know. Let me see that contract.” He reached for the datapad.

Whirl gave a little hiss and pulled it back. “I'm not telling, and neither is he. That's between us, and that particular stipulation is even in the contract.”

Brainstorm came close and crouched before Tailgate. “Look, you do know what's going to happen, right? You really do know how you lose your seals, right?”

Tailgate nodded happily. “I'm up to it.”

Riptide, sitting silently with his mouth hanging open until now, suddenly grabbed Whirl firmly at the shoulder from behind. “I consider Tailgate a friend, so if you so much as scratch his paint...” he threatened.

“Oh I won't be scratching his paint.” Whirl waved a claw dismissively. “Anything but. Just you wait and see...” laughed the rotary ominously.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The Lost Light Insider had decided that Tailgate's seals were front-page news. Of course it did. The lurid headline, printed in an even more lurid pink, announced the shocking details.

Whirl would be auctioning off his purchase in two days. Tailgate's seals, both spike and valve, were to be sold as a set.

Whirl had been promptly summoned to Ultra Magnus' office.

“What? The contract said that I could either take them myself, or do whatever I wanted with them. They're my property.”

“This is an affront to not only Tailgate's dignity and to be frank, the dignity of the entire crew,” Ultra Magnus snarled back.

“Dignity-schmignity. There's nothing in the Autobot code that says it's illegal. In fact, there's nothing in the Decepticon code either that says seals cannot be treated as a commodity. And if you want to know, virginity auctions were a regular thing with the Wreckers—part of the hazing rigmarole. Our medic would fit up the newbie with some fresh seals and we'd sell him to the highest bidder. The proceeds went towards charity usually. Though in this case, the charity is me. And Swerve is getting a cut too.”

Ultra Magnus, still scowling, tapped at the pad. “I see that everyone registering to bid receives a free drink before the auction.”

Whirl grinned—sort of. “Yeah. Everyone gets a double shot of a double-strength engex blend he's distilling as we speak. Loosen up the inhibitions and loosen up the shanix too. And I'm sure it will be quite a crowd. I've already had thirty two mechs register to bid and the auction is still two days away.”

The big mech set the datapad down, set his hands on his desk, and leaned forward. “Call it off.”

“Look, if you're worried about Tailgate, Tailgate is completely in the know, and he's completely okay with this.” Whirl drew himself up tall. “And honestly, you should probably glad I'm auctioning them off, because it means that I won't be the one to deflower him.”

Ultra Magnus looked pained.

“See? You are glad, aren't you?”

“Get out of here!” he heaved.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the bidding commence!

-o-o-o-o-o-

Swerve's was packed to the walls, mechs crowding into the booths and around the tables and into any places they could fit themselves. Rodimus, Ratchet, Drift, Ultra Magnus, and Megatron sat together at a large table in the corner, one that could hold several larger mechs. Ultra Magnus looked exceptionally uncomfortable.

Whirl climbed up onto the sturdy riser erected for the occasion and surveyed the crowd. Even with Swerve handing out the free booze the minibot was still making a killing. This was going to be so much fun. He raised his hands for silence. “Welcome everyone to the event of the meta-cycle. I'm glad to see so many of you here.”

There was enthusiastic applause along with a few hoots and few jeers. Oh this was definitely going to be fun. 

Whirl raised his claws again for silence, and when it was given he addressed the crowd. “Now, a few things first. One, I just want to reassure you all that Tailgate is completely in agreement with this. I'm not forcing him. Two, it's both spike and valve seals we're auctioning off here. You get both for the final price. Three, those of you who registered to bid got a free glass of engex, but you have to drink it all, or at least most of it, before you get to bid... you know... loosen up your shanix a bit. Four, I do have seven anonymous bidders that have registered. And no, they don't get any free engex, but they are allowed to place bids through the secured comm' links I've established with them. And no, their identities will not be made public. I do have some decency despite what you've all heard. And lastly, I've established a maximum bid of seven hundred and fifty million shanix.”

That got a giggle.

He pointed over to the table accommodating the command staff. “Take note, Drift is registered to bid.” His gaze shifted to Cyclonus, who was standing leaning against a wall, downing his third glass of engex. “As is Cyclonus. Feel free to duke it out, you two.”

The crowd laughed and groaned.

“Anyway...” He looked down at Tailgate and beckoned him up onto the riser with him. “So this is what I'm offering today.” He quickly grabbed Tailgate in his claws, and as the minibot squeaked, he lifted him high. “One adorable little piece of untouched aft.”

“Hey!” Tailgate cried as Whirl flipped him over and displayed his hinder to the crowd. There were hoots and hollers and catcalls.

“So I'll start the bidding at a measly five-hundred shanix. I think most of you would be able to cough that up for a bit of fun.”

“Put me down!” Tailgate pleaded, little white legs kicking in the air.

Whirl laughed and obliged and looked over the crowd. “Five hundred. Who will start this out?”

Riptide's hand shot up in the air. “Five hundred!” he called out.

“And we have our first bid,” Whirl announced, quite pleased with himself. “Six hundred?”

Another hand went up amid the laughter.

“Six hundred offered by Mainframe. Nice, but I know there's more out there.” Another hand went up and someone called out seven hundred. Whirl acknowledged it, and then caught the next bid of seven hundred and fifty shanix, followed immediately by several more hands going up in an excited flurry of bidding.

Nightbeat, sitting with Rung at a small table close to the front, suddenly grabbed his friend's arm and waved the thin limb in the air. “Ooh! Ooh! Eleven-hundred! I want to bid on the minibot!” Nightbeat said, doing his best impersonation of Rung's higher-pitched voice. Even Whirl laughed.

“Nightbeat, please,” Rung protested, trying to pull his arm away.

Whirl of course saw what had happened but decided there was more fun to be had with the moment. “Rung, I thought I had explained it clearly enough. You have to register if you want to bid.” He waved toward the bar. “Someone go get Rung the sign up sheet and a glass of engex.”

“I'm not bidding,” Rung protested firmly, finally managing to pull his arm away from Nightbeat's grip. He shoved the blue and yellow mech playfully.

Another few hands went up in the back and Whirl responded, finally coming to “That's fourteen-hundred from...” He craned his neck to see around Riptide. “From Nautica.” Whirl looked down at Tailgate and gave him a nudge. “Hey.. Nautica bid on you. Looks like you might come out pretty good from all this,” he chuckled.

Tailgate's hands fiddled together in front of his chest. “I hope so.” And then he waved at her from across the room. He'd always liked her—from a distance. She always seemed too smart and too busy to try to get closer to her in any way, shape, or form.

A white hand came up at the command staff's table, and Whirl straightened. “What's that? Seven hundred and fifty million from Drift?”

The crowd shrieked with glee.

“Try fifteen hundred,” Drift called back.

Whirl grinned down at Tailgate again. “Hear that? Fifteen hundred from Drift. I would sell my own seals if I knew Drift was going to buy them.” For once everyone was finding Whirl funny rather than obnoxious.

“So, anyone out there got more than fifteen hundred?” Whirl asked. He looked pointedly at Cyclonus where the mech still leaned against the nearby wall, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't even looking at Tailgate or Whirl, but instead seemed to be scrutinizing the opposite wall.

“Sixteen!” someone cried from Nautica's table, and Whirl saw it was Getaway with his hand in the air this time. There were four of them seated there, Brainstorm and Skids completing the quartet.

“Eighteen,” Nautica bid against him.

Getaway snorted playfully at her and raised his hand again. “Twenty-two.”

The crowd was much amused as the two put in several other bids against each other, until Nautica offered three thousand shanix.

“Three thousand. Not a bad price for the chance to break this sweet little thing in. And it looks like a femme might be the one to do it.”

Aquafend raised his arm. “Thirty-three!”

“Or not,” Whirl chortled. This was going very well. “Thirty-five hundred? Anyone want to bang a tight little minibot for thirty-five hundred? There's a guaranteed two frags here if you go both ways. Thirty-five hundred from the anonymous bidder on line four. Thirty-eight hundred? Thirty-eight hundred from Mainframe. Four thousand?”

Drift raised his hand again.

“Four thousand from Drift. Forty-two hundred?” Whirl straightened. “Forty-five hundred from the anonymous bidder on comm' link #2. Five thousand from the bidder on comm' link #7. That's five thousand shanix, folks.”

The crowd applauded and whispers bounced about the tables.

Whirl was thrilled. Several bids ago he'd earned back what he'd paid Tailgate, and past that, it was all profit minus the percentage to Swerve, and possibly a bit of a bonus to Tailgate. “Five thousand shanix... Oh, but the little guy is worth so much more.”

Nautica waved her hand. “Fifty-two!” she offered when she had Whirl's attention.

Suddenly Nightbeat spoke up from the table close to the front. “Hey Whirl, not to put a stop to your parade here, but how do we know that Tailgate's actually a virgin? I mean he acts like it, but I think with this kind of money starting to flow, we need a bit more proof of what we're buying.”

Whirl put his hands on his hips. “Nightbeat, you haven't even put in a bid yet.”

“Well I just want to know if we're getting the real deal here,” he said, pointing at Tailgate.

“Hey, the little guy's a virgin,” Ratchet volunteered from the command staff's corner. “When I rebuilt him just after this mission launched, I had to replace his original seals because they were falling apart after so long. But they were still there.”

“Well that's fine and good, except that it's been a while since we launched. How do we know he's still intact? There's a lot that happens aboard this ship,” Nightbeat pointed out.

“I still am,” Tailgate squeaked.

Nightbeat folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

“Well if you're not going to take my word for it, or his word for it, how about we get a professional opinion on this?” Whirl turned to Ratchet. “Ratchet? If you would be so kind as to examine the goods, and see if everything is as advertised here?”

“I'm off duty, and I've had a few,” Ratchet responded with a waggle of the drink in his hand, but he waved his opposite hand at First Aid and Velocity nearby. “Would one of you go check him out?”

“I'll do it,” said First Aid, rising from his seat, “even though I'm off-duty as well.”

“You can use one of the storerooms,” Swerve offered. “Save some time that way, instead of heading back to the medibay.”

Whirl looked at Rung. “Would you mind verifying this as well? Second opinion and all?”

Rung appeared a bit faint. “Only if it's all right with Tailgate.”

Tailgate looked a bit surprised. “I... I suppose.”

“All right everyone. We pause the bidding at five thousand, two hundred shanix while First Aid and Rung verify that Tailgate has been completely honest with me.”

Tailgate gave a little huff of indignation, but Whirl just gave him a push in First Aid's direction.

“So let's all have another round of drinks and gossip about who the anonymous bidders are, and about who's actually going to end up with the honor of being Tailgate's first frag,” Whirl called happily.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The auction continues and the bids for Tailgate's seals begin to rise into some serious money. Megatron even has a way to get Ultra Magnus to bid.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Whirl gradually made his way through the crowd up to the bar to get a drink for himself. And while waiting at the bar, Brainstorm and Skids caught him. “You really are going through with this, aren't you?”

“Indeed I am,” Whirl said smugly, waving at Swerve for a drink when he had the mech's attention.

“Seriously.”

Whirl chuckled as Swerve slipped a tall drink with a particularly fancy curly straw into his grip, and then he turned to face the two mechs. “Look you two, we all know what's going to happen. The bidding gets up there, slows down, and then at the last minute Cyclonus jumps in with a bid that no one wants to or dares to top and 'rescues' his little roomie from his mistake. Cyclonus gets laid and mellows out about twenty notches. Tailgate learns a valuable lesson, makes a few shanix, and gets past this hurdle of his virginity. Then the two realize just how much they really care about each other and fall deeply in love. And beyond them, those who have registered to bid, a healthy eighty-eight of us, that number not including the shy-guys, get a free drink. Everyone else enjoys a bit of entertainment. Swerve turns a decent profit from additional drink sales and I end up with a pocket full of shanix and we all go home happy.” Whirl gave a giggle of smug satisfaction. “Let me know how this is not a win-win situation for all parties involved?

The two just stared, actually thinking about the question.

And then Brainstorm clapped Whirl on the shoulder. “And here I thought you didn't have a lick of common sense in you. This plan is absolutely brilliant.”

There was a bit of a commotion as First Aid, Rung, and Tailgate returned from Swerve's back room.

“Well?” Rodimus asked, as eager to know as everyone else.

“What's the bidding at now?” First Aid asked.

“Five-thousand, two hundred shanix,” Whirl answered calmly, picking his way again through the crowd back to the riser.

“I bid five thousand eight hundred,” First Aid replied.

There was no laughter this time, just gasping. And the medic's answer sparked a flurry of bids that took the price up to nine thousand shanix. If First Aid, who'd just inspected the goods, wanted them, those goods had to be something worth having.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“I wish I could put a stop to this, but there's nothing even in the Tyrest Accord that can stop it,” Ultra Magnus grimaced. “Selling one's own virtue is not forbidden, and there's nothing regarding the resale of such.”

“Well hey, as I see it, Tailgate's actually going to do better with this. Selling him means that he'll lose his virginity to someone other than Whirl,” Rodimus chortled.

Ultra Magnus cringed; Whirl himself had stated the same thing. “But Tailgate should be choosing for himself.”

Rodimus punched Ultra Magnus' arm playfully. “Well then why don't you start bidding and purchase his virtue. And then you can keep him intact until he decides. Hmmm?”

Ultra Magnus glared at Rodimus. “That's not the point.”

“Look, it's easy. You make the winning bid and thusly 'protect' Tailgate from the rest of us predators now and on into the future. And then at some date maybe you can gift your right to his seals to someone Tailgate has chosen. Or perhaps in a million years or so when your springs have loosened a bit, you might even take them yourself.”

Ultra Magnus folded his hands over his chest. “I will do no such thing,” he huffed. “I refuse to participate in this indecent spectacle.

“I have an anonymous bid of nine thousand, five hundred from comm'link #3” Whirl announced over the noise.

“I can get him to bid,” smirked Megatron.

“Excuse me?” Ultra Magnus challenged.

“You can?” asked Rodimus, quite intrigued by his co-captain's boast. “I'm listening.”

Megatron continued to smirk as he raised his hand. “Ten thousand shanix for the minibot.”

Whirl's head whipped around so fast his optic was a streak of yellow. There were astonished gasps at the high bid, followed by anguished gasps as it became known who had placed it.

Rodimus fell against the table in a fit of giggles. “And here you said you registered to bid just so they had to give you a cup of engex.”

“And after how long it's been, that cup of Swerve's swill has been the finest I've ever tasted.”

Ultra Magnus was shaking with anger. “How dare you,” he spat at Megatron.

Megatron, as always, remained calm at the center of the storm. “Go ahead, Magnus. You know how to stop me.”

Ultra Magnus' huge hands clenched into fists and he stood. Most optics were looking in their direction.

Whirl, along with the audience, was excited by the sudden plot twist. “Well it seems that we have a current bid of ten thousand shanix. Unless someone wishes to offer more, Tailgate... sweet, adorable, innocent little Tailgate ...will be sent off to Megatron's quarters, and Primus only knows what shape he'll emerge in tomorrow. Looking for eleven thousand. Eleven thousand?”

“Eleven thousand,” called out Ultra Magnus suddenly and desperately.

“Why Mags... that's an unexpected offer from you,” Whirl remarked.

Ultra Magnus grumbled and sat back down.

“Except that you aren't registered to bid.”

“I'm registering right now,” he snapped.

Whirl giggled with delight. “Swerve! Get the sign up list over here and get the big guy a drink!”

“I don't want a drink,” Ultra Magnus muttered.

Knowing full well that Ultra Magnus didn't drink, Whirl tittered in delight. The big mech was squirming. “You know the rules. Gotta have a drink first unless you're bidding anonymously, but it's too late to set you up with that now.”

Swerve was already placing the sign-up datapad and a glass of engex in front of Magnus.

Ultra Magnus stared at it briefly, and then pressed his stylus to the screen. And then he grabbed the glass of engex, and to everyone's continued surprise he chugged it down without hesitation. “There. Happy?”

“Eleven thousand,” Whirl gloated.

Megatron sighed. “It's been a while since I've had a virgin,” he told the table. “I was presented with a lot of them during the war. They seemed to think I liked them. Honestly I prefer a mech with a bit more experience.” He raised his hand. “Twelve.”

“Damn you, Megatron,” Ultra Magnus hissed, and then he looked to Whirl. “Thirteen.”

“Thirteen thousand shanix from Ultra Magnus. Fourteen thousand from the anonymous bidder on comm' link #3.”

“Most of them ended up spending a few days in the medibay after I was done with them, you know.” Megatron's hand went up again. “Fifteen thousand.”

The crowd rumbled, but Ultra Magnus was on his feet again. “Sixteen!”

Whirl would have been grinning like a madman if he'd had a mouth to grin with, and he would have been grinning even broader when the bidder on comm' link #7 called in eighteen thousand, followed by the bidder on #3 offering nineteen.

“The bidding now stands at nineteen thousand, that bid placed by the anonymous bidder on comm' link #3.” He glanced at Cyclonus, who was now looking over at the squirming Tailgate. Was that Cyclonus bidding on channel #3? “Twenty thousand? Twenty thousand to make a lasting impression on this innocent little mech's life?” His optic rolled to the corner table, eyeballing Megatron, and then Ultra Magnus, and Drift. Drift was whispering something into Ratchet's audial. Ultra Magnus looked ready to self-implode as he stared into the empty cup in front of him.

Megatron shifted his arm, but Ultra Magnus quickly caught it and held it down. “Don't you dare...” he growled.

“I was just reaching for my drink,” he countered. “You are way too tense, Ultra Magnus.” He picked up the glass and sipped at it. And then he gave Ultra Magnus a dangerous smile. “Why don't you let me buy Tailgate for you?”

Ratchet put a calming hand on Ultra Magnus' shoulder as the mech tried to stand yet again. “Don't let him work you up. You know very well that he's just doing it to provoke you,” Ratchet said tactfully.

Without a word Ultra Magnus settled but continued to glare at Megatron.

“Twenty thousand!” suddenly cried out a flustered Mainframe from his table.

Whirl coughed. Was Mainframe that desperate to get some action? “Twenty-one folks? Twenty-one thousand shanix? And hey, if we get to twenty-five, Swerve's virginity is included in the package as well.”

“Hey!” Swerve snapped from behind the bar. “I'm not a virgin!”

“Could have fooled me that time I took you home,” someone jeered from the back of the room.

The crowd laughed at Swerve's expense, but Whirl wasn't about to let the moment go. “Twenty-one thousand? Anyone have twenty-one thousand shanix lying around that they aren't doing anything in particular with?” Not that it mattered. Megatron and Ultra Magnus' competing bids had made all the trouble in organizing this worth it, and now he was so far ahead of his initial investment everything thrilled him. He couldn't wait to watch the video Rewind had captured and see what exactly was going on between Mags and Megs.

Comm' link #3 pinged again, the mech at the other end offering twenty-two thousand shanix.

“We have an anonymous bid of twenty-two thousand shanix” a stunned Whirl announced to the audience, at which there were now gasps of disbelief and repetitions of the numbers.

Whirl looked at Mainframe, who now instead of looking nervous looked rather defeated. Mainframe shook his head. Blaster and Siren, sitting with him, patted him on the shoulders.

Whirl's gaze turned back to the command staff's table but this time there was no motion.

“Going once?” Whirl asked. The end was in sight.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The auction concludes and Whirl finds himself a richer mech. And then... Cliffhanger!

-o-o-o-o-o-

It had to be Cyclonus bidding anonymously through channel #3, Whirl decided. The mech had registered to bid publicly but had not put in a single public vote.

No one moved.

“Going twice?” Whirl hoped perhaps Megatron would throw in another bid and open up that can of worms again.

And still no one moved. Probably because the tension in the room was so thick.

Whirl gave a quick glance to Cyclonus, who was staring into his nearly empty cup. Yeah, it had to be Cyclonus on channel #3. Just look at that stoic confidence.

Whirl slapped the bell, the resounding clang filling the room. “Tailgate's seals are now the option of the mech bidding anonymously on comm' channel #3.” The room erupted in cheers and animated debate over which of them wanted to quietly deflower Tailgate and why Mainframe was so eager to have the little mech as well.

Ultra Magnus rose, shaking his head. “I can't believe this lot!” he huffed and was the first out the door. On wobbly legs as well, Rodimus noted. The engex must be hitting hard.

“The successful bidder now has one breem to deposit the twenty-two thousand shanix into my personal account, or the property shall pass to Mainframe—of all people—for the price of twenty thousand shanix,” Whirl announced.

The excited crowd surged to the bar for more drinks, and in the midst of it Whirl hit the bell again. Everyone froze for the final announcement. “The transaction has been completed. Tailgate's seals have been sold to the bidder on 'comm channel #3 for twenty-two thousand shanix.”

Applause filled the bar and there were toasts to the unknown bidder. Tailgate was handed rounds of drinks and advice.

“Better luck next time,” said Blaster, rubbing Mainframe on the shoulder.

Mainframe just sighed and stared into his engex.

Megatron picked up his glass and contemplated what little was left. He'd been nursing the last few swallows, knowing that it would be ages before he'd be allowed another. “Well congratulations Co-Captain,” Rodimus grinned. “Nice way to get Mags all riled up.”

Megatron looked into the glass, and then suddenly downed the rest. “I really should have bought Tailgate's seals and gifted them to Ultra Magnus,” he said as he put the empty glass back down. “It would have been even more difficult for him to deal with that than anything else.”

Rodimus burst into loud laughter. “You are a truly evil mech.”

Megatron gave him a crooked smirk. “Not evil. Just cunning and vengeful.”

Cyclonus too finished the rest of the drink in hand, his fourth now. And then quietly he stalked out, ignoring the comm's from Whirl.

Brainstorm returned to his shared table with a pitcher of engex, which he poured into the empty glasses. “So Nautica, now that it's over, why were you bidding?”

Skids gave her a look. “I'd like to know too.”

Nautica simply grinned at them and picked up her glass. “Oh, reasons,” she smiled.

Whirl looked down at Tailgate. “Well that went well, and here...” He handed Tailgate a couple of credit chips. “A little bonus for you.” 

Tailgate was surprised to find four thousand shanix in his hand. This was in addition to what Whirl had paid him originally. “Oh wow! I've never had this much money before.”

Whirl cackled. “Well don't feel too pleased yet. You still have to hand over the goods.”

Tailgate cocked his head. “Yeah, that. I'm kinda excited about it, but also kinda scared.”

Whirl crouched and curled his arm around the minibot. “Look at what you've already been through on this quest. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“Good point,” answered the minibot, perking up. “This will be an adventure.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

The next day, at the end of his work shift, Tailgate followed the instructions sent by his purchaser.

He made his way down to the specified location, an out of the way and easily overlooked storage room in the depths of the Lost Light. For a moment he turned on the lights, finding a mattress waiting on the floor accompanied by a thermal blanket and a couple of stiff cushions. This wasn't just a rendezvous point. This was where it was to happen.

The minibot turned off the lights again, leaving the room lit only by the glow of the door control panel and the electrical box on an adjoining wall. His purchaser had insisted on anonymous even in the claiming of his prize. And so Tailgate began to make himself ready, placing a blindfold of thick tape over his visor. More tape covered his alt-mode's optical sensors. And just as he began making himself comfortable on the mattress, one of a large size but not much padding, his purchaser comm'ed him again. :: Are you in the room?:: he asked.

::I am.::

::And are you prepared for me as instructed?::

::I'm as ready as I'll ever be.::

::Excellent. I shall be there shortly.::

Tailgate lay down on his side, felt around for a cushion, and pulled the first one he found into his arms, and then he ventilated deeply, calming himself. His purchaser would be arriving within moments. Okay, there was still a chance this was all a set-up and suddenly everyone would burst in and shout 'surprise!' And there was the odd chance that Whirl had faked everything just for some crazy entertainment. And of course there was the possibility that Cyclonus had purchased him. That's what most people had been saying. The horned mech had been at the auction doing nothing but leaning against a wall and drinking, occasionally casting a glance toward the riser. But others suspected Ultra Magnus was bidder #3. Yet others said it was Rodimus. Some said Megatron. After the sale was complete Jackpot had started taking bets.

Tailgate did hope in his spark that it was Cyclonus, and prayed that it wasn't Megatron, or Ultra Magnus. And it didn't help that he'd had a sudden attack of nervousness on his way here. But at least he did have an escape option should things go wrong. Cyclonus had in no uncertain terms informed him that if anything went wrong, all he had to do was send a call, and the purple warrior would be there in moments, sword out.

That offer probably precluded the option of Cyclonus being his purchaser.

His train of thought made an abrupt halt when the door opened. The time had come. “He-hello?” the minibot called out. Footsteps sounded across the floor, approaching him with an easy gait. “Is that you, um... my buyer?”

“Yes,” came the answer through the double darkness.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would say that "the plot thickens," but this little gem doesn't have much plot. However there is the continued mystery of who aboard the Lost Light will be deflowering Tailgate, even as the possibilities are narrowed down.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Tailgate did not recognize the voice, but then again it was easy enough to change the modulation on one's vocalizer to alter the basic sound. “Um, hi there. I followed your instructions.”

“You did,” answered the voice from beside him now. Tailgate felt the mattress flex beneath him as someone else got upon it. “I'm going to touch your shoulder,” the mech announced.

“Uh, sure,” Tailgate answered, not really sure of what else he should say.

A light hand fell on his frame and it stroked him gently, first down each arm and then over his helm, moving on to his chest and thighs. And when Tailgate stopped worrying enough about what might happen, he realized the touch was actually very gentle and quite nice. Though it was still going to take a bit to get past the nervousness about the encounter.

“You're very lovely,” said the buyer. “I've thought so for a long time, but I've never had the option to talk to you, about getting to know you better. And we've all been so busy. You've been so busy.”

Tailgate giggled nervously. The fingertips that continued to caress him delicately were of average size and blunt. That ruled out a number of mechs, including his roommate and Whirl. He really had been pretty nervous for a while during the auction when Megatron and Ultra Magnus had been bidding on him. He really hadn't wanted Megatron to be his first. The big mech probably would have torn him in half with his spike. And likewise with Ultra Magnus, except that Ultra Magnus would have bored him to death first with a lecture regarding the Autobot Code's regulations on sexual conduct, all the while the second-in-command considering it foreplay.

“Would you open your mask for me?” came the quiet request.

Tailgate obliged, sliding back the extension of his faceplate that protected his delicate mouth assembly. The fingertips now moved up to sample them, gently probing and exploring. Tailgate was unsure of how to react when one finger slipped between his lips and stroked his dentae and glossa, so he just held still and wondered why his purchaser would want to touch him there.

“You're so lovely,” the mech purred when he withdrew his finger from Tailgate's mouth. “I can't even begin to tell you how thrilled I am about this.”

“Do you want me to open my panels now?” Tailgate asked eagerly.

“No. Not yet. I'll ask you to when we're a little more comfortable.”

“You are going to take my seals though, eventually?” he asked.

“Of course I will,” came the amused answer. “I just want to take my time and enjoy this. The door is thoroughly locked and we have all night.”

“So, like what? A couple hours?”

“At least. You're not in a hurry, are you?”

Tailgate shook his head. “I think I'm just overly excited.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Cyclonus gave a huff but did not divert his gaze from the four tanks of engex behind the bar. “What?” he asked loudly. “It's not like I can't hear you all whispering over there.”

The group of mechs that had formed at the opposite end of the bar all startled.

Someone gave Riptide a nudge. “Go ask him.”

“Me? Uh, okay.” The tall blue mech moved from where he stood to nervously take a seat next to Cyclonus. “So, uh, what happened? How was he?”

Swerve took a quick survey of Cyclonus' drink level and retreated. 

“I assume you're referring to Tailgate,” he responded coldly. I've heard his name more than once in the gossiping over there.”

“Well, uh, yeah.” Riptide brightened.

“I wouldn't know.”

“You wouldn't know?” Riptide didn't know how to respond, and he looked back to the group for help.

“You did purchase Tailgate's seals, right?” Skids called, seeing Riptide had all too quickly run into a roadblock.

“I did not. That honor belonged to someone else.”

“We were all sure you'd bought them, in secret,” Skids said.

“That wasn't me.”

“Why not?” Riptide asked.

Cyclonus held back a hiss. “I didn't feel I needed them.”

Trailcutter moved in. “C'mon Cyclonus. We know that you and Tailgate have been dancing around each other ever since the second launch. You can admit it.”

“There is nothing to admit.”

Trailcutter looked pained. “You have to admit it... I've got a hundred shanix on you that you were the one to buy Tailgate's seals.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but your bet was poorly made.” Cyclonus suddenly drained his cup and rose. “Now if you'll excuse me, but I might have somewhere else to be.” And with that he collected his sword from Ten and left Swerve's.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Tailgate sorts out his feelings with Rung's help.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“And so then what happened?” Rung asked.

Tailgate's hands were back to fiddling in front of his chest. “I... I asked him if we could do it again some time, or if we could at least be friends, but he said no. I even said that I didn't have to know who he was, but he still refused.”

“Why did you ask him that?”

Tailgate squinted in thought. “Because... because he was very gentle with me, like he cared, and he made me feel so good. And it was... it was kinda special. I thought maybe this was the start of a wonderful relationship between us.” The minibot sighed and hung his head. “But I guess he didn't want me for anything more than my seals, because then he made me lie down and told me to wait a breem before I took off the blindfolds. And then he gave me another kiss and just left.” Tailgate sounded almost broken-hearted.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“I suppose. I just... I dunno. I guess I liked him an awful lot even though I didn't know who he was. So... so I guess I feel kinda rejected. I shouldn't. He paid a lot of money for me, but I still do.”

Rung shifted and crossed his legs the other direction. “Have you considered that perhaps your purchaser has other commitments that come first. It may be that you were just a guilty pleasure, hence his desire to remain anonymous.”

Tailgate's stare shifted from the ceiling to Rung, the stare now curious and questioning.

“I doubt that it's a matter of him rejecting you. Not everyone aboard this ship is free to indulge in a relationship. His refusal may have been due to a professional matter, or a social one.”

“Like what?”

“Well, it could be that your buyer is involved in a serious relationship with someone else, but had feelings for you. Auctioning off such an encounter isn't a regular thing, and as the transaction could be made anonymously, he saw this as a way to indulge his attraction to you.”

Tailgate's mind immediately went to Chromedome, who as far as he knew was the only mech aboard in a serious relationship with anyone else. Had the mnemosurgeon been cheating on Rewind? Well that would explain why his purchaser had bid and claimed him anonymously, and why the offer of future encounters had been turned down. And why his purchaser had done so very well at handling his smaller frame. He'd not been allowed to touch his purchaser with his hands—their frames were all too unique and distinct. So it very well could have been Chromedome.

“There are a number of variously committed couples aboard the ship,” Rung continued. “That may very well be the case. But there is the possibility that he had to turn you down for other reasons. For example, suppose your purchaser had been Megatron. You're sure it wasn't, but suppose it had been? How would that stand with the crew if it were found he'd bought your virginity and afterward continued a sexual relationship? Either secretive or public?”

Tailgate did think about it. “I suppose you're right.”

“And I know that there are a good number of other mechs aboard that would probably be in the same situation.”

“Probably,” Tailgate sighed.

“Which means then that it's time for you to move on from this. Maybe pursue a more conventional romance. Perhaps Cyclonus will be a bit more open to closeness now that you're a little more 'worldly'. Maybe this whole auction thing will bring you to the attention of other mechs you've not even met yet.”

“Mainframe really wanted me. He bid twenty thousand,” Tailgate noted with an awkward laugh. “Maybe he'd be interested still. I mean, I don't have my seals, but then I wouldn't be charging him twenty thousand shanix.”

Rung smiled. “Well there you go. And I'm sure there are plenty more out there who'd enjoy being a partner to your enthusiasm and optimism. And if you're lucky, they might even be as good with your frame as your purchaser was.”

Tailgate smiled broadly. “Yeah. You're right.” He looked over at Rung, seated as always in his chair, his legs crossed and his built-in workpads extended. “You've got to be so very right.” He sat up and hopped to the floor. “Thank you Rung. You always know what's best.”

“I do my best,” said Rung with a shrug of his shoulders. “Now get out there and carry on with your life. Don't be too eager, but don't hesitate when opportunity arises.”

“I won't! Oh thank you, Rung for explaining it all to me.”

Rung smiled back. “My office is always open.”

Tailgate gave a giggle. “I'm off to Swerve's now. I told Cyclonus I'd meet him for a drink after I talked to you.” He opened the door and departed.

After the door closed, Rung retracted his workpads and took off his goggles with a sigh, setting them on the desk.

And then he rose and strolled over to the couch. And then he sat upon the thinly padded surface. And then he lay back upon it, his hands clenching the cover over the padding, hands that had just the night before been clenching Tailgate.

He'd not gone to the auction with the intent of purchasing the little mech. Upon the posting of the event in the Lost Light Insider, Nightbeat had talked him into accompanying him to see what happened. But then as the gossip and rumors and speculation built before the auction, he'd registered anonymously, thinking that perhaps if the bids needed to be upped a little, he could possibly save the minibot from being purchased for too low a price. It wouldn't do to have Tailgate on his couch the next day, mourning how little he'd been valued. But the excitement and drama had gotten to him, and after being asked to confirm Tailgate's virginity along with First Aid, he knew what he wanted. And he could have it without anyone knowing, without anyone questioning how appropriate his actions had been. And when Megatron began placing bids, it was just further confirmation that he was doing the right thing.

He'd smiled secretly to himself as the crowd had toasted bidder #3. He'd enjoyed the lively debates brought on by the drama of the evening. He'd patted himself on the back at not hearing his name come up even once when bidder #3's identity was deliberated. He'd agreed with Nightbeat that whoever it was was probably a sneaky little turbofox.

Rung's fingers stroked at the soft cover beneath him. And the encounter itself had been unexpectedly perfect.

Tailgate had been willing and obedient. He'd followed instructions and not asked an endless stream of questions. He'd trusted his purchaser as to what was best. And by the time the long, long session was over, the minibot had mewled and shuddered his way through five overloads and he himself had enjoyed four. It would have been nice to simply take the minibot in his arms and recharge right there in that overlooked cargo room—they were both pleasantly exhausted and feeling wonderful—but remaining would leave him too vulnerable to discovery. And when Tailgate so passionately asked about the possibility of continuing this relationship, Rung knew he needed to escape before temptation seized him any further. And so he'd wiped the minibot clean, kissed him goodbye, given him one last instruction along with a final kiss, and then slipped away. Later he'd collected the mattress and bedding after Tailgate had departed.

Rung rolled onto his front, and taking one of the office's cushions in his arms he snuggled his head against it. It was a shame he couldn't remain with Tailgate, or with anyone on the crew for that matter—ethics and professional regulations wouldn't allow it.

But at least he'd had this, a beautiful, daring indulgence.

And now down at Swerve's, Tailgate was probably ordering a big-boy drink and telling Cyclonus and whoever else was there about the wonderful but secretive mech that had taken his seals and stolen his spark and ruined him for all future lovers.

At least Tailgate had that.

-o-o-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-

THE END

-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-o-o-

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone besides Jackpot taking bets?


End file.
